The sunlight around Nina finally began to fade, and she uncertainly approached Taran El, seemingly still confirming whether the elven scholar had truly "awakened" from his drowsy phantasmal state. After inspecting him up and down several tis, she hesitantly spoke, "Mr. El, are you really awake?"
Taran El, however, paid her no attention. He rely furrowed his brow slightly, looking unwell.
This led Nina to wonder if perhaps the recent fireball explosion had been a bit too strong and the great scholar’s ears had not yet recovered.
But after a few seconds, Taran El suddenly reacted; he waved his hand frantically at Nina and then rushed to one side, bending over and beginning to heave violently.
Nina was startled, but unsure what to do, she could only move forward to pat the scholar’s back. After he seed to get a bit better, she opened her mouth with both nervousness and embarrassnt, "I’m sorry, did the blast stun you..."
"No... it’s not because of that," Taran El gasped for air while vigorously shaking his hand, almost choking up again at Nina’s show of concern. After nearly half a minute, the elven scholar finally straightened up and, with a pained expression, explained, "It’s probably the potion."
Nina was taken aback. "Potion? What potion?"
"The one used to let ’awaken’ in this dreamscape," Taran El steadied his breath, talking while pounding on his chest with his fist, "Am I the only one who’s awake? Have you seen anyone else?"
Just then, Morris was walking by and heard the conversation. He instinctively frowned, "Other people? What exactly is happening here?"
Taran El glanced at Morris, then instinctively surveyed the eerie and unfamiliar surroundings, obviously still a bit confused but nonetheless began to explain seriously, "Truth Confidant Ted Riel organized a team, and I was the consultant accompanying them—we assembled before the onset of the dreamscape and drank the ’Blood Crow’ concoction..."
"Blood Crow concoction?!" Morris was shocked, looking unbelievingly at the person before him, "Aren’t you guys being a bit reckless?"
Nina, however, did not understand their discussion and couldn’t help asking, "Mr. Morris, what’s wrong? What is this Blood Crow concoction?"
"A magic potion, extracted from various toxic fungi, very dangerous," Morris explained, "It directly affects a person’s spirit. After a delayed effect, it can put people in a death-like state, causing the spirit to beco disengaged and perceptions misplaced—it’s used to aid in deciphering extrely dangerous ’knowledge’. By going into this sleep-like death, those who have ingested the potion can avoid lethal contamination or a curse during that phase. However, because the concoction itself is too perilous, it may only be produced and ingested with strict academy approval, thorough safety asures in place, and custodied by the Academy of Truth when absolutely necessary."
The veteran scholar continued explaining then couldn’t help but take another look at Taran El, "I still have to say... aren’t you all acting sowhat recklessly?"
"But it was highly effective. My hypothesis was confird—by forcing a rather strong ’Spiritual Displacent’, we could awaken within ’The Dream of the Naless’, just as a hole punch automatically ejects non-standard paper from the machine," Taran El spread his hands, "Of course, another possibility is that we would be ’ejected’ from ’The Dream of the Naless’ and return to the real world. But from the looks of it... the power of this dreamscape is even greater than we imagined. Even a spiritual death-like state can only restore clarity in the dreamscape. To escape this dreamscape, we might need so other form of stimulation..."
He deliberately paused at this point, his face revealing a proud expression.
"’Sudden Death’ as an advanced application scenario—that idea was mine."
Morris, staring dumbfounded at the famous scholar who stood before him, managed with difficulty to utter, "How did Truth Confidant approve of this plan?"
"He did indeed think there was sothing inappropriate about my plan," Taran El shrugged, "but I told him that although serious, we should prioritize caution, so he finally agreed to start with a more conservative approach..."
Morris: "...?"
He had always thought of himself as sowhat radical in his academic research. Yet, it was only now that he suddenly realized that here in Light Breeze Harbor, this city-state near the border, it was these elves dealing with "cutting-edge fields" who were a bit more audacious.
"Don’t make that face, Morris. In fact, I know what you are worried about. We’re doing very dangerous things and it does not conform to a ’scholar’s’ code of conduct," Taran El noticed the changes in Morris’s expression and finally let go of the smile on his face, turning serious, "But we might not have much choice.
"You might have already heard the news—a condition known as ’Sleeping Disease’ is spreading among other city-states, and it obviously relates to the developnt of ’The Dream of the Naless’. In the anwhile, outside my laboratory, a tree that crawled from the dreamscape to the real world is covering my roof and balcony with its crown...
"So, it’s ti to take risky actions because it seems the world isn’t going to give us ti to make all the necessary preparations."
Morris remained silent.
Taran El observed the surroundings again, and after a mont, he shook his head, "It seems the first thing I should do here is find the others."
"The good news is, you should all be within the range of these ruins; the bad news is, these ruins span an alarming area," Morris sighed, "Now, let tell you the first lesson in navigating this dreamscape—as soone who enters the dream for the first ti, even if you and your companions stay in the sa room in the real world, after entering the dream, you’ll be randomly separated."
Taran El looked at Morris and Nina, who was quietly standing behind him.
He did not see the other followers of Captain Duncan.
But it was very clear that these "lost followers," who had already acted nurous tis within The Dream of the Naless, had accumulated a lot of experience related to this vast Dreamscape.
"I need more guidance," Taran El said earnestly as he looked at the two in front of him.
...
"What on earth was that?!"
In the forest just outside the Wall of Silence, a heretic clad in a black robe lifted his gaze to the sky, watching the fading bright light with uncertainty, taking a while before he couldn’t help but whisper.
Yet his comrade, moving in the sa group, couldn’t answer that question either—another heretic also gazed in astonishnt at the sa direction, unable to utter a sound for a long ti.
Just monts ago, a huge Fireball had risen from deep within the forest, sothing that should not appear in The Dream of the Naless—it shone like a second sun over the forest, shredding all clouds, and its light seed capable of piercing through ti itself. Amidst the light and impact of the Fireball, the entire forest experienced an instant "restlessness."
Plants grew wildly, the ground trembled, and inexplicable roars arose out of thin air.
It was as horrifying as a "Corrosion phenonon" when it burst forth.
But this shockingly abnormal phenonon lasted only a few seconds, and before sothing irreversible could truly take hold in the forest, the Fireball vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
Leaving behind two heretics who, just a minute ago, had been earnestly setting "marks," now staring at each other bewildered in the woods.
After what felt like an eternity, the heretic who first shouted finally broke the silence again, "That didn’t look like Silantis waking up... not quite like how those preachers describe it."
"Then it might be so kind of external force..." the other heretic unconsciously lowered his voice, "A huge Fireball... Could it be that those Sun followers are up to sothing?"
"That shouldn’t be the case. The saints have been watching every move of those Sun followers; they shouldn’t suddenly do sothing so outrageous... Besides, even if they were really going to go against us, they wouldn’t lose control this early, right? ’The Final Mont’ hasn’t arrived yet."
The two heretics muttered uneasily, and after a while, they finally thought of a possibility together.
"Could it be..." one of them started, his voice tinged with hesitation and unease, "could it be one of ’his’ followers again?"
"’He’?"
"You know who I’m talking about."
"...Are you kidding?" The voice of the other heretic suddenly carried a touch of tension, "This kind of disturbance... This kind of disturbance..."
He struggled for a while, finally forcing out the rest, "This kind of disturbance must be caused by so kind of monster... We’re not really going to fight such a thing, are we?"
Even the heretics who followed the inscrutable, when confronted with such an incomprehensible force, seed to finally feel a trace of fear.
But just then, a series of footsteps suddenly ca from the direction of the forest, interrupting the conversation between the two heretics.
They turned around abruptly, like startled birds, looking towards the source of the noise only to relax upon seeing the figures before them.
It was their kin.
It was Dumon, Richard, and others who had earlier scattered throughout the forest to set their marks.
"Did you see the big Fireball that appeared in the sky just now?" one of the two heretics couldn’t help but ask, "Could that be one of the Ghost Ship captain’s followers?"
"We saw it, and it was indeed startling," Dumon nodded, his voice as calm and convincing as ever, "But don’t worry, we won’t encounter that force, we’ll all be very safe next."
The two heretics exchanged a glance subconsciously.
"Are we preparing to evacuate?" one of them asked Dumon, "It looks like everyone is gathering."
"Yes, everyone is gathered," Dumon began with a smile as he walked forward slowly, leading everyone slowly onward, "We were just missing you."
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